


Echolalia

by Random954



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Autistic Damian Wayne, Autistic Tim Drake, Echolalia, Fluff, Gen, Meowing, Stimming, tims so out of it in this fic i dont think hes slept in three days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random954/pseuds/Random954
Summary: Turns out Tim and Damian have something in common.





	Echolalia

**Author's Note:**

> Echolalia: The unconscious repetition of sounds, words, and/or phrases. A symptom of autism.

It was a nice day. Quiet, warm. Damian had spotted Alfred the cat sleeping on a table in a far off sitting room and had gotten out his sketchbook. He stretched out on the couch and started sketching. Watching the quick rise and fall of Alfred’s little body as he curled in the sun honestly made Damian as comfy and warm as if he was the cat in question.

He was just putting the finishing touches on the slumbering Alfred drawing when someone wandered into the room. Their steps were slow and not particularly deliberate so it probably wasn't Dick or the Pennyworth come to find Damian for lunch. The doorway was facing the back of the couch so Damian couldn't see who had entered from where he was laying down and they couldn't see him either.

When Drake came into view Damian tensed. Last night had been a late patrol and by the time Damian had woken up everyone was gone for the day. He’d assume Drake was off at a meeting for Wayne Enterprises with Father. Wandering the empty mansion to stare out windows at various bird had been quite enjoyable.

Drake didn't even seem to notice that Damian was in the room tapping insistently at his tablet with a frown a bag slung over his shoulder. He wandered through the room walking heel to toe until he kicked a recliner at a right angle to Damian's couch. The typing stopped and Drake stared at the chair as if the furniture had gotten up and moved in front of him. A barb sat on the tip of Damian's tongue, but Drake still hadn't noticed him and Damian hoped he'd simply wander out of the room the way he'd wandered in.

Instead Drake decided to sit down, almost as if he could somehow sense how much Damian wanted him to leave and was instead being unnecessarily contrary. As he turned to sit he finally noticed Damian and stared for a moment wide eyed. Damian matched the stare, chin lifted the best it could be with him laying down like he was. Drake simply unfolded his tablet into a laptop, nodded at Damian and went back to typing his, satchel placed at his feet.

Accepting the proposed truce, Damian swallowed his comment on losing a fight against furniture and went back to drawing. His muse had woken up. Alfred stretched in that slow languid way only cats could and glanced around at his company. Damian knew when Alfred had spotted him because the cat meowed in what Damian liked to interpret as a pleased tone. Absentmindedly he meowed back. 

There was something particularly elegant about the sound of a cat's meow, and it had a very good mouth feel. Damian liked to believe that Alfred understood his meows to mean that he was also pleased to see him. Cats were very socially intelligent after all. Alfred paced down the table out of Damian's eyesight and after a while he felt the thud of a cat on his back. Alfred walked to Damian's head a nice pitter patter of cat paws up his back.

'Mrrrp?' Alfred said peeking over Damian's shoulder. Damian's hands stilled knowing from experience the cat would attack the pencil if he saw it wiggle. Instead of trying to continue to draw Damian reached back and ran his finger through Alfred's fur. It was unbelievably soft. Animals were always so soft, they really were a gift to humanity. Damian meowed quietly a smile playing around his lips.

Damian became aware of the sudden, rapid, clacking of keyboard keys that hadn't been there before and felt heat rise in his face. There was a chance of course that Drake hadn't been listening to him making animal noises. That he had simply finished typing something and was now typing something else. After a moment passed without comment Damian relaxed.

Alfred, feeling ignored by the suddenly still and tense Damian, left to investigate Drake. His cat had terrible taste, but if he was begging Drake for pets it meant Damian could go back to drawing without battling a cat over his art supplies. Drake didn't seem to notice as the cat hopped onto his armrest or climbed up to the back of the chair.

Alfred was hunched down on the back of the chair clearly about to shift to Drake's shoulders. He often sat on the same place on Damian. Alfred's tail brushed against Drake's face and he startled, glanced confusedly at the tail then turned to face the cat who'd placed one tiny paw on him.

Drake stared at Alfred for a moment looking slightly bewildered as if he hadn't known the cat was there. Honestly when was the last time Drake had slept? Dick would be so disappointed that he was ignoring his health again. Alfred meowed at him and Drake immediately meowed back. For a moment Damian thought he was being made fun of before he caught the way Drake ducked his head, face flushed.

Oh.

So other people did that too. Good to know.

Drake scritched Alfred under the chin and went back to typing. The cat, seemingly satisfied, paced back to Damian and again meowed for pets. Drake made a sound under his breath that could have been a sigh if Damian hadn’t know it wasn’t. Damian meowed back at his cat, pet him for a while, and stopped so he could continue drawing when the cat wandered back to Drake.

They carried on like that for a while Alfred drifting between them whenever one of them stopped petting him. Every now and again he'd meow and after a moment he'd be echoed by one of the boys. Occasionally Damian meowed without prompting and Drake would repeat that too.

A few hours passed before an alarm went off on Drake's computer. Drake reached into his satchel and pulled out a sandwich in a ziplocked bag, he stared at it for a moment before glancing up at Damian who immediately looked away adding a few more details to his drawing of a wide eyed Drake staring at Alfred in what could only be described as a staring contest. The sandwich landed in front of Damian and he sent a startle glance at Drake. He was already holding his phone up to show Damian that the alarm had been a reminder to eat lunch.

"I could find my way to the kitchen if I need to eat, Drake," Damian said with a squint. He was actually a bit peckish, but he would not stand to be coddled like this by Drake. Dick maybe, but certainly not Drake. Especially when this was clearly something that Drake had intended for himself. Drake just shrugged and reached for his laptop again. Half of a sandwich in a ziplocked bag landed on it before he could open it. Drake raised an eyebrow at Damian who held the other half of the sandwich defiantly.

"You weren't at breakfast." He snapped, "If you keeping skipping meals Grayson will kill you."

""I do not fear death." Drake said, his mouth twitching up at the corners. "I had been dead for billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it." It sounded familiar and Damian closed his eyes to place the quote.

"Mark Twain?" He suggested.

"Mark Twain." Drake agreed taking a bite of his sandwich. The turkey in the sandwich was a minor obstacle, but was quickly solved by giving the meat product to Alfred. When they finished eating they all settled back into their routine. Typing, drawing, and meowing.

When Dick came to get them for dinner hours later they were both asleep with Alfred watching contentedly. 

"It's been a nice day Alfie." Dick whispered scratching the cat behind the ears. Alfred meowed at Dick. Tim mumbled in his sleep and Damian sighed happily.

**Author's Note:**

> I think technically Dami isn't echoing. He's happy stimming by meowing. He'd probably still do it if Alfred wasn't there. Tim's def echoing tho. It's helping him focus on the boring business proposal he doesn't want to be writing. I headcannon that if Tim goes a long time without talking he loses his words a little. It's not very distressing for him unless some tries to make him talk.


End file.
